


Behind Closed Doors

by WhenItsDarkOut



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Porn, Businessman Derek, Clumsy Stiles Stilinski, Derek Being an Idiot, Light BDSM, M/M, Mild S&M, New York City, Office Sex, Personal Assistant Stiles Stilinski, Porn With Plot, Sassy Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski Being an Idiot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-13 21:29:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5717749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhenItsDarkOut/pseuds/WhenItsDarkOut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has no idea what he's doing. His best friend just set him up in an internship in one of the biggest companies in New York. </p><p>Derek Hale knows what he's doing. He does everything alone and knows exactly what he wants. But when Stiles comes in, he's the first person Derek's ever met that isn't afraid of pissing him off. Derek doesn't put up with misbehaviour</p><p>And misbehaviour deserves punishment.</p><p>OR</p><p>The fanfic where Stiles is really clumsy and Derek punishes him with a good fuck</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Bonjour,
> 
> This will be very smutty, just saying. But it will have a plot... One that's good enough, I hope.
> 
> My Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/YooToobIsLyfe  
> My Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/g-queasy

Stiles took in the view from the bustling subway train. Leaning his head against the vibrating glass, he sighed. Why Scott had insisted he apply for this stupid internship at Hale Enterprises, he didn’t know. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do, but that didn’t mean he wanted to apply for a job at one of the biggest and most successful companies in New York City- America even. He tapped his fingers on a leg to the rhythm of the song coming through his headphones. Did he take too much Adderall that morning? Probably yes. Was he starting to regret it? Most definitely yes. He had been so rushed trying to find a shirt that was acceptable for a job interview that he’d just taken a random handful of pills and rushed out to catch the subway, and he was beginning to pay the price. 

 

New York City was the sort of place that if you were dying in the middle of the street, people would either walk around you or take  a Snapchat. It wasn’t American in the sense that there were eagles on every street corner but in the sense that it was every man for himself. Good for the rich, bad for the poor. 

 

He felt a buzz from inside his pocket. Fingering around momentarily, he pulled out his phone and checked the notification. Scott.

 

 **Scott** : Have fun at the interview ;)

 

Stiles huffed and replied.

 

 **Stiles** : I hate you. 

 

He waited momentarily for Scott to reply, but to no avail. Probably busy chasing after Allison, that boy was hopeless. Completely oblivious to the fact that she thought of him no more than the dirt under her perfectly done fingernails. Oh well. He tucked his phone back into his pocket and resumed staring blankly outside at the passing city. Stiles felt mildly pleased with himself. So far he had been in New York for a week and hadn’t died- yet. His apartment hadn’t exploded, collapsed in on itself or ignited into flames. Maybe his dad wasn’t right when he said ‘everything that Stiles touches either dies or explodes.’ Though, now that he thought about it, he was probably right. Fathers are usually right about those kinds of things.

 

After ten more minutes of staring outside the window Stiles finally reached his stop and hopped off. The weather was crisp and helped Stiles not to vomit all over the platform, he had never been so nervous in his life.

 

What if they rejected him? What if he accidentally destroyed the building- or said something wrong? He had a habit of doing that, his big mouth was notorious for saying the worst things at the worst moments. Sarcasm is a blessing and a curse.

 

He looked up at the subway tunnel ceiling and made a collective prayer to every divine being and a few celebrities before climbing up the steps into the bustling New York street. There was no turning back. 

 

 

 *

 

 

Stiles spent the next fifteen minutes trying to get Siri to explain to him how to get to Hale Enterprises. He probably should’ve thought about this on the subway instead of aimlessly staring out the window at nothing. 

 

After consulting Google Maps, he finally found the route. Squeezing through the endless tsunami of busy business people he finally arrived at his destination.

 

Stiles gasped and gaped up at the magnificent monster of a building before him. The morning light gleamed off the modern glassy exterior and Stiles couldn’t help but gaze up at its massive height. He wondered where he’d be for the interview, hopefully at the top. He couldn’t really see New York from his 5th-floor studio apartment and couldn’t wait to see it from such a height.

 

“You don’t see these kinds of buildings in Beacon Hills,” He muttered to himself before pushing himself through the heavy glass doors into Hale Enterprises.

 

The bottom floor was busy with people in suits. Suddenly, Stiles felt as if he had no idea what he was doing (which he didn’t). 

 

He didn’t really know where to begin, or what to do. Luckily he didn’t stand around, still a bit shellshocked, for too long. He went to the big desk in the middle but freaked out at the last minute. Before he turned and left the perky receptionist reached out to him before he collapsed onto the floor with shock. 

 

She clicked off her earpiece and leant forward so Stiles would realise she was talking to him, almost like a primary school teacher. “Mr Stilinski?” Stiles snapped his head in her direction and she gave him a slight smile. “My name is Andrea, I’m the receptionist. You’re here for the interview?”

 

Stiles nodded and swallowed dryly. “Yes.”

 

Andrea raised her eyebrows and went back to her computer momentarily. Her eyes scanned the screen at a rapid pace before she turned back to a very nervous Stiles. “Bad news, the woman that was going to interview had to go to Los Angeles for business reasons. Good news…” She cocked her head as if she was wondering if what she was about to say was actually good news. “You’ll have… Mr Hale as your interviewer.” A blush rose to her cheeks and she chuckled nervously.

 

Stiles stared, she seemed a tad nervous about this ‘Mr Hale’ guy. What, was he a sociopathic killer or something? Or maybe he's a sadistic masochist that secretly practices BDSM in his spare time? How bad could he be? I mean, he owns a billion dollar company and that means he has to talk to people, he has to have a little bit of a soul… right?

 

He smiled wearily as a few of his nerves disappeared. “Alright, what do I need to do?”

 

“Top floor, 40th.” 

 

Stiles wasn’t sure he heard her correctly. He wanted to see New York from a height- not be up in space! “W-what? Forty, four-zero?”

 

“Yes, 40th floor…” Andrea repeated with a concerned frown. “Are you okay?”

 

“Me? Oh yeah, I’m great.” He gave her a forced smile.

 

She just gave him a concerned nod. “Right.” As Stiles went into the elevator she called out to him. “Just… be careful what you say to Mr Hale, okay? He’s known to…” Andrea clamped her mouth shut, she had said too much.

 

Stiles felt a wave of anxiety wash over him. “He’s known to what?”

 

“Uh, nothing.” Andrea gave him a sly wink and clicked the earpiece back on and began talking to the person on the other end, Stiles took this as the cue to leave and entered the elevator. The jaws of the elevator shut leaving Stiles alone with his thoughts.

 

 

  *

 

 

If there was a time to turn back from all this, it was long gone. With all the stress and anxiety pulsating through him, the minute long elevator ride seemed like hours to Stiles. He shouldn’t have agreed to this, having Scott pester him about being useless would beat this. _Anything_ would beat this. Stiles wondered if he should’ve just made a run for it and just ditch the interview. Yeah, that would’ve been a good idea. 

 

The elevator opened and forced Stiles to get out. He walked into the stylish modern office of who he presumed to be Mr Hale though he couldn’t see him. A black glass desk sat in the middle of the room with a few papers and mug sitting on it, a comfortable looking black leather seat sat perfectly on the other side. Stiles looked around the room and saw two black expensive loveseats, they looked completely untouched. 

 

At this realisation, a spark of excitement exploded inside Stiles. Maybe he wasn’t here today? Maybe, he could just get on the subway, go home and binge on  _Grey’s Anatomy_. Yes, that’s exactly what he was going to do. Just as he turned to go back a deep voice spoke out.

 

“Stiles.”

 

Stiles nearly pissed himself with fright. He turned and saw a tall muscular figure in a dark suit standing at one of the many large windows that surrounded the office. He couldn’t see his face, only dark raven hair and a muscular body clothed by an expensive-looking suit.

 

Stiles swallowed hard and the room suddenly became hot. “Mr Hale, I-“

 

He didn’t waver from his ominous stance looking out the window. “You’re half an hour late. Sit.”

 

Stiles replied with a sheepish squeak and sat down at the seat in front of the desk. He exhaled a sharp breath and tried to calm himself before Mr Hale eventually turned around. His head was spinning and it didn’t help that he suddenly felt as if a thousand stage lights were shined upon him. 

 

Mr Hale shifted from one foot to the other before coming to sit down at his desk. It was then that Stiles finally saw his face. He couldn’t help but let a small sigh escape his lips, much to the pleasure of Mr Hale who raised an unimpressed yet cocky eyebrow. His perfectly sculpted face was complimented by neatly trimmed facial hair. His eyes were a light green and displayed a cocky yet intrigued look. And his lips… oh god, _his lips_. So plump and full that Stiles could only imagine what they’d feel like against his own. Heat rushed to his face and… other regions. 

 

“Stiles.” Mr Hale said in his deep voice. He looked Stiles directly in the eyes confidently, that only added to his arousal. His gaze wandered down to Stiles’s slight bulge in his pants then straight back into his eyes. The corner of his lips curled into a slight smirk. Only slight.

 

Stiles blushed and squeezed his legs together. God, this man was _killing_ him. 

 

He cleared his throat and shifted some papers across the black glass desk. Stiles couldn’t help but watch his fingers, so veiny and long. He could only dream of what they’d do to him. 

 

“Stiles.” Mr Hale said, abruptly waking Stiles from his daydream. Embarrassed, he looked out the window only to scare himself from the magnificent height. He let out a small squeak before sinking into the seat. Mr Hale clenched his jaw, “Oh, would you like the curtains down?”

 

‘Yes please’ was what he wanted to say, what _actually_ came out was a small catlike sound as he started hyperventilating. He was terrified of heights. 

 

Mr Hale stood up and walked to the curtain, pulling it a quarter of the way down. He turned to Stiles, “Better?” 

 

“Uh, if you could…” Stiles looked at the uncovered area of a window, he could most definitely see the city below him, and he was _not_ enjoying it. “Just lower it a little, maybe all the way..?”

 

He shook his head. “You never know what’s in the dark, Stiles, something might… _bite_.” Stiles swallowed hard and shifted his position so he was facing away from the window. He had to control himself, he didn’t want to loose this internship because he practically threw himself onto the CEO. 

 

“So, Stiles.” He sat back down and raked a hand through his dark hair. “Tomorrow I have an appointment at ten-thirty downstairs on floor 52 with the technology development team, so I expect you to remind me-“

 

“Wait, are you saying I got the internship?”

 

Mr Hale raised an eyebrow as Stiles’s boldness. “Yes.”

 

“But- you haven’t even asked me anything yet!” Stiles protested. 

 

“Do I have to?” He leant back into the desk chair, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. Still no sign of a smirk or a smile. But it was very obvious that he was most definitely enjoying watching Stiles get flustered.

 

“Well… no- but I could know nothing about the company and you’d just hire me!”

 

“We specialise in technology within the business and economic sector, happy?” Mr Hale said simply, almost with boredom.

 

Stiles pouted, “But I know nothing about that!”

 

“I didn’t know that being a PA required such knowledge.” Mr Hale shrugged, his gaze unwavering from Stiles’s eyes. His green eyes were studying Stiles’s face, watching, searching for every emotion and thought that raced through the hyperactive boy’s mind. Finding new ways to send him blushing, hot-faced and flustered.

 

Stiles nearly choked on his own spit. “PA? _PA_?”

 

“Yes Stiles, a personal assistant.” Mr Hale repeated, restraining himself from rolling his eyes at the boys stupidity.

 

“I didn’t sign up for being someone's personal assistant! Since when does an internship equal becoming someone's slave?”

 

“I never said you had to be my slave, but that can be arranged if you’d like.” He shot Stiles a raunchy look before returning to his usual expression, a scathing glare. 

“Stiles, you signed up for an internship, not a holiday. If you don’t like it, feel free to walk out the door right now.” Stiles growled but stayed firmly in his seat. “What’s stopping you?” He asked cockily though he knew perfectly well what was stopping him. 

 

“Okay. Fine. Whatever, I’ll stay.” Stiles muttered, tongue-in-cheek. He could see that Mr Hale had a domineering aura to him, and with Stiles’s big sarcastic mouth he was sure to get fired within a week or so, but for now, he was going to have some fun. 

 

Whatever bit of amusement Mr Hale had mustered up earlier had disappeared within seconds. Mr Hale sat up straight in his seat and glared straight into his eyes. Stiles desperately wanted to rip himself from Mr Hale’s intense stare but he just couldn’t make himself do it, and it scared him.

 

“Let’s lay down some ground rules, Stiles. We want this to work, don’t we?” The way he said his name sent cold shivers down Stiles’s spine and he couldn’t help but shudder slightly. He opened the top desk drawer and pulled out a crisp piece of paper. He handed it over to Stiles. 

 

Stiles’s eyes scanned the paper. The rules started simple enough but he couldn’t help but think differently as he read down the page. To anyone else they just seemed like regular rules, but with the thoughts, Stiles was having he couldn’t help himself but think about them sexually.

 

_Rule 1: Don’t be late. Ever._

_Rule 2: Don’t disrespect my authority._

_Rule 3: Do as I say, always._

_Rule 4: Misbehaviour deserves punishment._

_Rule 5:_

 

Rule 5? There was just an empty space. Stiles looked up at Mr Hale and frowned. “What about Rule 5?”

 

Mr Hale leant over and whispered in such a seductive voice that Stiles thought that he’d melt. “Rule five: what happens in my office, _stays_ in my office.” They stayed in that position for a split moment, neither wanting the intense moment to end. Mr Hale stood up, signalling that the interview was over. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, nine o’clock- sharp.”

 

Stiles stood up too and nodded. Just as he was heading towards the door he was stopped by Mr Hale’s voice.

 

“Stiles.”

 

He turned around, lips parted and eyes wide. “Yes, Mr Hale?”

 

Mr Hale finally gave him a cocky yet slightly seductive smirk. “Call me Derek.”


	2. The First Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey <3
> 
> Thank you for your lovely comments! I hope to update more regularly now that I've gotten through some writers block.
> 
> Just some FAQ's:
> 
> \- There is no werewolves or alpha/beta stuff.  
> \- Patience is key, all will be revealed soon ;)
> 
> ~ Kitty

 

Stiles woke up late, as usual. At first, he was reluctant to get out of the cocoon of bedsheets that he had made for himself but scrambled out when he realised the time. Eight-thirty. 

 

Shit! Derek said nine o'clock sharp and the subway he was _meant_ to take had left a while ago. Rule 1 haunted his thoughts as he walked to the subway station: _Don’t be late. Ever._ If he wasn’t nervous before, he was definitely nervous now. Derek didn’t look like the sort of guy that didn’t mind having his rules being broken.

 

Luckily, there was a subway leaving at nine o'clock, though he knew that Derek would still be pissed.

 

He said a quick hello to Andrea, who was on the phone, before racing into the elevator. He was _so_ dead. Maybe he could just press all the buttons and the elevator would take longer- no, that wasn’t a good idea, Derek would probably rip the doors open and eat him alive or some crazy shit like that.

 

The ominous doors of the elevator parted and Stiles was thrust into Derek’s office. The lights were off and he didn’t appear to be in the room but he could sense him, he couldn’t describe exactly how but you know when such a dominating figure was in a room, you just know. 

 

Stiles took a cautious step into the room and looked around, still no sight of him. He took another cautious step forward and shut the door behind him. 

 

“Mr Hale?” No reply.

 

After a few seconds of waiting for a bit, Stiles ventured out into the room. He looked at the paintings on the wall, most of them were just black and white drawings sketches- hipster kind of stuff. _Derek never seemed like the guy to be into art_ , he thought to himself. As he was looking at the fourth picture on the wall he felt a sudden rush of air behind him and a muscular body shoving him chest-first against the wall. 

 

“Mr Hale, I-“

 

“I thought I said you could call me Derek? But it’s obvious you don’t listen seeing as you’re over half an hour late.” Derek growled into Stiles’s ear with gritted teeth.

 

Stiles inhaled a hitched breath and tried to wiggle out from under Derek’s strong grip. “I slept in a-and the subway was late.”

 

“I don’t care. Rule 1: Don’t be late,” He hissed, closing the gap in between their bodies. “ _Ever_.” Stiles groaned a little bit, he could feel Derek’s crotch against his ass and the lack of friction was killing him slowly.

 

“I- I know. I’m sorry Mr Hale- I mean Derek.” Stiles stuttered, swallowing the lump in his throat. He could feel Derek’s hot breath against his neck, his skin erupted with goosebumps.

 

Derek smiled against Stiles’s skin, making him shiver underneath him. He leant in and grazed his lips against Stiles’s neck, making him shiver with delight. The slight scratch of his facial hair made a barely audible sigh escape his lips.

 

“Are we going to be late again?” He whispered tantalisingly.

 

Stiles swallowed hard and stuttered a shaky, “No.” 

 

“Hmm? I can’t hear you.” Derek smirked, moving his body so minimally against Stiles's that it left him hungry for more.

 

“No! I said… no.” He breathed. This teasing was exhausting him and if Derek wasn’t careful, Stiles was going to do something regrettable. 

 

Derek pushed away from Stiles and made his way to the large window behind his desk. Stiles gasped for air, it suddenly felt as if the room had turned into a sauna. He didn’t know what had just happened, but he knew he liked it. 

 

Derek ran a hand through his hair and turned his head halfway towards Stiles. “Get me an Americano with one sugar.”

 

“From where?” Stiles straightened his shirt and tried to look as if he hadn’t been shoved up against a wall. 

 

“Starbucks.”

 

“Starbucks? Like _outside_?” He scoffed. _He must be joking_ , Stiles thought to himself, _he won’t send me into the tsunami of busy people_. New York was still a bit terrifying for him and he wasn’t planning on getting run over, not today at least.

 

Derek’s jaw clenched and he frowned as he sat down at his desk, one leg balanced on the other. “Yes Stiles, _outside_. We haven’t gotten to the stage of having our own Starbucks yet.” Stiles opened his mouth to retaliate but Derek shut him down. “Go!”

 

“But, but there’s a coffee place downstairs!” He gestured to the swarming streets of New York below him. 

 

“Are you hard of hearing or are you just as stupid as you look? I said Starbucks.”

 

Stiles frowned and stormed into the elevator. “Jokes on you, cause I’m going to enjoy this little adventure.” To make matters worse, his foot got stuck in the door as it closed. “Fuck!”

 

“Uh-huh, that’s nice Stiles,” Derek said, not looking up from his phone. “By the way, please don’t spill it on yourself. I’m not paying health insurance if you burn yourself.”

 

“I love you too,” Stiles said sarcastically.

 

“If only I could say the same.”

 

 

*

 

 

An hour and a half later Stiles was back in that elevator on the way back up to Derek’s office. He hadn’t spilt it- well he _had_ but Derek didn’t say he couldn’t spill it on the floor. And it wasn’t his fault that some indecisive woman on the 27th floor couldn’t decide if she was getting in or out of the elevator.

 

“Guess who’s back?” Stiles cheered as he entered the office. 

 

Derek, who was on the phone shot him a death glare and mouthed, “Shut up.”

 

“Alright then,” Stiles muttered. “Two can play at that game.” He dumped down the coffee cups on the desk and huffed. 

 

“Yes. Yes, I know that.” Derek said into the phone, he looked at Stiles cautiously and lowered his voice. “This is different. Yes, I can control myself.” Stiles pretended to be interested in God knows what, but he was _so_ listening. “I don’t have to deal with your bullshit, Peter. I’m not fucking 17 anymore.”

 

_Woah. Okay. Someone's pissed._

 

“Yeah, fuck you too.” Derek hissed into the phone before slamming it down. When he saw Stiles staring he gave him a try-me-bitch look. “What?”

 

Stiles bit down on his bottom lip nervously. “Nothing, I just brought your coffee.” 

 

Derek thought momentarily about saying thank-you but he wasn’t letting his tough facade fade for some skinny sarcastic dumbass. He took the cup with his name on it and frowned. “Why is there a love heart next to my name?”

 

Stiles chuckled nervously when he remembered the flirtatious wink the girl had given him before he left. “Oh, I told the Starbucks girl my name was Derek.”

 

“Please don’t go around New York using my name. I don’t need my name being stooped down to your low level.” 

 

Oh, that’s how it’s going to be? Alright then, bring it on. Stiles gritted his teeth. “Drink it, I need your critic review.”

 

Derek raised an eyebrow and took a small sip. Immediately he dropped it as if it was contaminated. “Stiles?”

 

“Yeah?” 

 

“What part of ‘one sugar’ do you not understand?” Derek was trying so hard to keep his shit together, Stiles could see that he was 2.5 seconds from having his ass handed to him- in a non-erotic way.

 

“Oh.” Stiles was so dead. No, he was deader than dead. “Do you want me-“

 

“Get me some sugar.”

 

“Right. Should I go downstairs and get it or-” 

 

“No. I want Starbucks sugar.” Derek fluttered his eyelashes which only irritated Stiles more.

 

“What’s the fucking difference?”

 

“Language.”

 

“Okay fine,” He exhaled a long breath and tried to contain himself. “What’s the difference?”

 

“There is no difference, you should just learn to do things properly.” Derek bit the inside of his cheek. He was trying so hard not to lash out and either chuck him out of the window or fuck him over the table, either way, he was losing his cool- and fast.

 

Oh, my god. How could he ever have thought this beast of a man was attractive? Well, he was attractive but he was not going to admit it, especially now that he had revealed that he was a complete asshole.

 

“You know what?” Stiles slammed his hands onto the desk and he knew when he looked into Derek’s furious eyes that he was in way over his head. 

 

“Please, enlighten me.” Derek stood up so he was at eye-level with Stiles.

 

Stiles anger trembled slightly and he just about vomited up his words. “You are the biggest dickhead I have _ever met_.”

 

Derek reached forward, grabbing Stiles’s tie and pulling him close. “Listen here, Stilinski. I don’t care who the fuck you think you are, but around here _I’m_ the boss and you’ll play by my rules. Understand?”

 

Stiles let out a restricted squeak. “Yeah, I understand.”

 

“ _Good_.” 

 

Stiles held his breath in anticipation- also, he could barely breathe but even if he could, his breath was taken away. 

 

DING!

 

Derek immediately dropped Stiles like a rag doll. He fell into his hands with a thud.

 

“What the fuck was that for-“ Stiles hissed.

 

“Shut up,” Derek growled into Stiles’s ear. Stiles ran over and slid stomach-first onto the couch, trying to act natural but failing terribly. The doors of the elevator opened.

 

“Lahey!”   


A floppy haired blonde boy screamed like a little girl and dropped the parcels in his arms. “Mr Hale!” He was undeniably cute but of course, Stiles wasn’t going to admit that. He clutched his chest and closed his eyes, Derek had given him one hell of a shock. 

 

Derek frowned. Stiles was impressed at how quickly he had regained himself, he was at his desk looking completely calm and in control- as usual. “What the hell is wrong with you…. are you on steroids? You better not be on steroids.”

 

“I don’t know, you don’t exactly get frightened like that every day.” He rubbed his face and ran a hand through his blonde curls. He turned to Stiles and gave him a cocky smirk as he waltzed into the room with some new found confidence. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t the Sorcerer’s Apprentice. You’re looking comfortable there.”

 

“Shut up Isaac. This isn’t Hogwarts, I don’t pay you to make stupid wizard-related remarks.” Derek grumbled.

 

“I’m pretty sure you don’t pay me at all, Voldywart.” Isaac retorted, he scanned his eyes over one of the parcels and smacked it overly hard in front of Derek onto the desk. “Here.”

 

Derek snatched up the package and gave Isaac a scathing glare. “Don’t you have someone else to be pissing off?”

 

“Nope, I’m all yours Dere-Bear.” Isaac gave him a lopsided grin which only made Derek more irritated.

 

_Damn. This guy can piss him off better than I can._

 

“Since you two want to be little shits, you can _both_ go get me a coffee from Starbucks.” Derek barked.

 

“That’s not my job, I’m the mail guy, not your personal slave.” Isaac snapped. “That would be his job.” He pointed to a very uncomfortable looking Stiles.

 

“I don’t care,” Derek growled. Isaac looked slightly intimidated but Stiles couldn’t help but think it was sexy.

 

“Woah, Big Guy, take a chill pill.” Stiles slid across the couch and got up. 

 

“ _Don’t_ tell me to take a chill pill!” 

 

“Alright, calm your tits.” Isaac joked and Stiles couldn’t help but laugh a little.

 

“Get the fuck out of my office and bring me back a coffee- and do it right!” Derek yelled.

 

Stiles and Isaac scurried out of the room, trying desperately to contain their laughter. 

 

“Did you see his face? Classic.” Isaac laughed as soon as the doors shut and the elevator started moving down.

 

Stiles grinned. “Is he that pissed off all the time?”

 

“Pretty much,” Isaac said with a shrug. “It’s either horny or pissed off with him.”

 

“Huh?” Stiles was suddenly intrigued at the mention of sex- hey, a guy’s got needs.

 

Isaac gasped. “You don’t know, do you?”

 

“Don’t know about what?” Stiles’s eyes narrowed and he suddenly became very suspicious.

 

Isaac turned and gave him a scarily mischievous grin. “Oh, don’t worry. You’ll find out.”

 

 

*

 

 

Isaac was less of an asshole than he appeared, in fact, he reminded Stiles a lot of himself. Sarcastic and might come off a bit harsh but with good intent, kinda.

 

He had actually helped Stiles not die in the lunchtime foot traffic of New York on the way to Starbucks. Which was helpful as Stiles was like a headless chicken when it came to social situations. 

 

They sat at a booth, Stiles with a Mocha and Isaac with some stupid Autumn latte shit- with Derek’s drink also. They may have gotten a little bit distracted but hey, those little chocolate cookies were worth getting yelled at for. They had been talking for a while, about just generally anything but always wavering onto the topic of Derek. Stiles had said a bit, leaving out the part about pinning him against the wall

 

“You still haven’t told me,” Stiles said as he bit into what must’ve been his third or fourth cookie.

 

Isaac took a sip from his obnoxiously festive drink. “Haven’t told you what?”

 

“You know,” Stiles lowered his voice as if someone might be listening. Derek knew a lot of people, he might have spies or something. You don’t know with guys like Derek. “The thing you said in the elevator.”

 

Isaac paused and cocked his head slightly. His face lit up and his lips formed an ‘o’. “Oh, _that_.” He shrugged and went back to his drink. “It’s was just an office drama.”

 

“Tell me, tell me!” Stiles bounced up and down like an eager teenage girl.

 

“Alright, alright.” Isaac leant in, his mischievous lopsided smirk tattooed onto his face. Just as he opened his mouth the loud irritating sound of Crazy In Love by Beyoncé blasting out of Isaac’s phone. Stiles screamed a little as Isaac picked it up and began chatting carelessly to the person on the other end as if Stiles wasn’t there. 

 

Finally, Isaac finished babbling and Stiles was only too eager to carry on with the conversation from before. 

 

“Tell me what you were going to say!” Stiles reminded firmly.

 

Isaac frowned and took a sip from his drink. “Huh?”

 

The grin fell from Stiles’s face. “Tell me what you were going to say, _before your phone rang_.”

 

Isaac shrugged and sipped from his cup. “Oh, I forgot.”

 

Stiles couldn’t help but groan. “Oh my god. No wonder Derek hates you.”

 

“I’m pretty much the only person in the office that isn’t scared of pissing him off. Though, I think you might beat me at my own game.”

 

“What?” 

 

Isaac grinned. “I dunno, you seem to really irk him. He gets pissed off with you in two seconds flat.”

 

Stiles felt almost proud though it wasn’t much of an achievement. He checked his phone for the time.

 

“Holy fuck.”

 

Isaac leant over eagerly. “What? Did Derek accidentally send you a dick pic- is it as big as people say? Let me see!“

 

“Dude, first of all, no.” Stiles stood up and Isaac blindly followed. “Second of all, we’re like an hour late. Derek is going to kill us.” Stiles groaned as they picked up Derek’s drink. “Dude we are so dead.”

 

“That sounds like a ' _you_ problem'.” Isaac shrugged and pushed open the door.

 

Stiles nearly got caught in the closing door and hit his shoulder on the doorframe. “What? You can’t just abandon me like that.”

 

“Don’t think of it as abandoning, think of it as… well, it is abandoning. Sorry dude, but I am not getting my ass handed to me.”

 

“Fuck you, Isaac. Fuck you.”

 

He spun and gave Stiles a teasing smirk. “Will do, Stiles. Will do.”

 

 

*

 

 

Stiles knew he was dead the second he stepped into the elevator. He was more than dead, Derek was already mad at him and this was just going to push him over the edge.

  
The anxiety that was bubbling inside of Stiles was the kind of anxiety that you get when you know you’re in trouble but you’re putting it off as much as possible. It wasn’t as if he could swan-dive out of the elevator and just avoid getting his ass whipped, he was stuck with some random people in suits that must’ve thought he was having some kind of internal seizure. He wasn’t sure if he was going to vomit or pass out or do both at the same time but he was fucking scared.

 

He practically sprinted into the room, much to the distaste of the other elevator users. Derek stormed at him.

 

“Where the fuck have you been? Do you know how long I’ve been waiting- I had to postpone a fucking meeting because of you!“ Derek raged.

 

“Derek, I am _so_ sorry. Isaac and I, well, were just- It’s kind of hard to explain.“ Stiles blurted out, flinching slightly as Derek looked stoically down his nose at him. He leant back onto the desk and Derek just stared him down more.

 

“You and Isaac were just what? Playing _My Little Pony_?”

 

Stiles just stared dumbfounded at him as he struggled to hold himself from collapsing backwards onto the desk. “Uh, well we were… well, the thing is-“

 

Derek exhaled slowly, his nostrils flaring with anger. “I will get it out of you, one way or another.” He leant closer to Stiles so he could feel his hot breath. “I’ll ask you one last time, what were you doing?” The question was trivial and he was pretty sure Derek didn’t give a shit but it was the fact that he had stuffed up twice and was late that really pissed him off.

 

“A, uh… I, we were-“ Stiles spluttered

 

Something finally snapped inside of Derek and he lunged at Stiles. He took his cheeks in his hands and smashed his lips against Stiles’s. 

 

_Oh, my god_ , Stiles screamed on the inside, _what do I do? Just kiss back, act normal. Act perfectly normal._

 

Stiles instinctively placed a hand on the back of Derek’s neck, guiding his lips against his. Heat exploded from his chest as Derek took his bottom lip between his teeth, drawing it and letting it spring back. He let out a soft sigh as Derek wedged himself in between his legs, grinding softly into him. 

 

“Derek…” Stiles' lips longed for Derek’s as soon as his lips left him, trailing down his jawline onto his neck. Derek replied with a soft grunt and sucked on the soft flesh which earned him a just audible moan.

 

Stiles was in fucking heaven and as soon as Derek’s lips reached his he was plunging his tongue into his mouth, their tongues fighting for dominance. Of course, Derek won. 

 

Derek’s hand trailed down Stiles’s side until he reached his inner thigh, stroking his restricted boner with his thumb as if asking for permission. 

 

Stiles shivered and whispered against Derek’s lips, “Do it.”

Derek didn’t need to be told twice. His fingers skillfully undid the belt and reached into Stiles’s boxers, pulling out his hard length. 

 

“Are we going to misbehave again?” Derek whispered tantalisingly, swiping a finger gently over the swollen tip.

 

Stiles sighed softly. “ _Oh my god_.”

 

“That’s not an answer.” He growled and swiped some pre-cum off the tip with his thumb. He lifted it to Stiles' mouth and his tongue eagerly licked it off. Stiles was sure he was going to cum right there and then, he had never tasted himself so good.

 

“I’m going to say it one more time, are we going to misbehave again?” Derek growled with slight aggression. Stiles could barely open his mouth to utter a word before he saw a flash of raven hair and felt Derek’s hot wet tongue swirling around his tip. 

 

Stiles squealed a little. “Holy _fuck_.”

 

Derek knew exactly what to do to leave Stiles hanging on the edge. With a smirk, he licked ferociously at Stiles’s sensitive tip, making sure to do it lighter as Stiles reached climax. Derek desperately wanted to take Stiles, right there and then but he knew he had to wait.

 

“Are we going to misbehave again?” Derek asked as he was slowly pumping Stiles’s cock with a gentle rhythm.

 

“No!” Stiles yelled. “Please just please Derek…!”

 

Derek sped up his tempo and within mere seconds, Stiles was shooting his load all over his torso.

 

Stiles shuddered as he came down from his high, still panting heavily into Derek’s ear. 

 

He swallowed hard and let out a shaky breath. “Derek…”

 

Derek ripped himself from Stiles’s grip and straightened his collar leaving him feeling cold without his touch. The high from earlier came crashing down and the ache from holding himself up finally set in. “Give me your shirt.”

 

Stiles gingerly unbuttoned the shirt. Any other time he wouldn't give a shit about who saw him shirtless but in front of muscular Derek he couldn't help but feel a bit intimidated.

 

He scrunched up it up and held it out. Derek took it and without hesitation grabbed his coffee and tipped it over the shirt, staining it.

 

“What the hell are you doing?” Stiles asked, caving in his arms in an attempt to cover himself.

 

“Saving the cleaning ladies from touching any of your shit.” Derek walked to the intercom next to the elevator doors. “I’m getting you a shirt, you’re not going to the meeting looking like that.”

 

“I’m coming?” Stiles said, standing up from the desk. 

 

“Yes… they're expecting you.” Derek pressed the talk button and Stiles could hear Andrea’s voice on the other end. “Andrea, can you please get me a shirt? No tie, I don’t think he can do one. Size?” Derek turned back to Stiles, looked him up and down and went back to speaking. “Small.” Stiles went hot with embarrassment. Derek thanked Andrea and hung up.

 

“What’s this meeting about?” Stiles asked, fiddling with an ornament on the desk. 

 

Derek shrugged carelessly. “Just organising things, with a new PA and all.” He paused and looked out the window. “They’re eager to meet you.”

 

“Who?” Stiles said but before Derek replied the elevator pinged and the doors opened. 

 

A small Japanese woman stood in the door, a meticulously folded shirt in hand. “Your shirt, Mr Hale.” She darted her eyes to Stiles’s naked chest then back at Derek, now blushing furiously. 

 

“Thank you.” He said simply and handed over the coffee soaked shirt. She gave him a disturbed look and took it off him, holding onto it with the tips of her fingers. 

 

“Does everyone wait on you hand and foot?” Stiles remarked when she had left.

 

“Trust me, it hasn't always been like this,” Derek replied, walking to Stiles and handing the shirt over. “Here.”

 

Stiles took it from him and smiled. “Thanks.” He read the label and nearly passed out. “Dolce and Gabbana, you got me a Dolce and Gabbana shirt?”

 

“Sorry, we don’t have anything else.” Derek shrugged like it was nothing.

 

Stiles had a blank expression as he slipped it on and buttoned it up. He was pretty sure that shirt could _buy him_ so he was extremely careful to not damage it in any way possible.

 

Derek checked his watch and gave Stiles a weary smile. “It’s showtime.”

 

 

*

 

 

Derek stopped in front of the boardroom door and turned to Stiles. “No stupid comments, no sarcastic expressions, no… nothing. Just… no being Stiles. Okay?”

 

“Aye aye Captain!” Stiles saluted, smiling like an idiot. Derek just glared. “Right, no doing stuff like that.”

 

“Yeah, don’t do stuff like that.” Derek gave him a put-on smile and pushed open the door. 

 

As soon as they walked in the bustling room fell into dead silence. Wealthy businessmen and snooty women stared at Stiles, then at Derek, then back at Stiles. A mixture of amusement, shock and repulse on their perfectly done faces.

 

“Well, well, well.” One of the men said a smug look on his face as Stiles and Derek sat down at the head of the long glass table. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

 

Derek clenched his jaw and leant forward in his chair. “Peter.”

 

_So that’s the Peter he was yelling at on the phone,_ Stiles thought to himself as he relaxed into the squishy black leather seat. 

 

“Thank you for inviting me back onto the board,” He said and Stiles knew he wasn’t really thanking him. “Nice to keep it in the family.”

 

_So they’re related, hmm._

 

Derek scoffed and muttered, “You invited _yourself_.”

 

“Anyways,” Peter linked his hands together on the table and smirked. “I think we all know why we’re here.”

 

“I don’t know, you’re the one that wanted this meeting,” Derek grumbled. He placed a reassuring hand on Derek’s knee, making sure to keep it out of sight under the table. Derek slapped him away and Stiles backed off, slightly hurt.

 

Peter looked insulted but kept his composure. “As I was saying, I think we all know why we’re here.” He looked at Derek. “Derek, is there somebody you'd like to introduce us to?”

 

“Not really,” Derek replied without hesitation, his hate-filled gaze firmly set on Peter.

 

“Oh, that’s a shame. We’d love to meet your… little friend.” Peter said slyly. He was the only one brave enough in the room to show it, but Stiles knew that everyone else in the room knew about the previous PA. Of course, Stiles pretended to be oblivious. “C’mon, introduce _it_.”

 

Derek growled. “ _His_ name is Stiles and he’s my personal assistant. Happy?”

 

Peter put his hands up and chuckled. “Calm down. We all know what happened last time you lost your cool around your personal assistant.”

 

The room bubbled with laughter. Derek did not look amused one bit. 

 

“Just hurry up and start this meeting so I can go,” Derek growled.

 

“Now, that’s no way to speak to your beloved uncle,” Peter smiled but Derek just glared back. 

 

Stiles put his hand on Derek’s knee again and this time, he let it stay.

 

 

*

 

 

“And as you can see from this detailed flow chart, our stocks have increased by 13.1%” Peter explained, pointing to the giant chart with a long white pointer.

 

Stiles wanted to bang his head on the desk. Really hard. Over and over again until these stupid businesspeople would shut up and leave so he and Derek could get back to fucking.

 

But that wouldn’t happen because people kept on asking questions and those questions needed answers and that would lead to more questions and the cycle would just carry on and on and on. 

 

Stiles crossed his legs over and stole a quick glance at Derek. Derek almost looked as bored as he was, he had this blank expression on his face and Stiles could hear him exhale a long stressed breath when someone asked a question. 

 

_I guess I’m not the only one._

 

Stiles waited until Peter was rambling on again before leaning across and whispering into Derek’s ear. “This is the epitome of awkwardness. I feel like I’m watching him confess his love to himself if that makes sense.”

 

“Epitome? That’s a big word for a small guy.” He whispered back as Peter swiped the screen on to yet, another chart.

 

“Hey, I’m not as dumb as I look.” Stiles directed at Peter, who was rambling about how great his pie chart was. “Does he always do this?”

 

“Do what, ramble on about how amazing he is?” Derek shook his head and smiled slightly. “Shame he can’t marry himself.”

 

Stiles groaned, making sure to do it so only Derek could hear, placing a hand on his thigh and sliding it up slowly. “I’m so bored.”

 

Derek growled quietly and Stiles wasn't sure if anyone else heard but judging by the bored looks on everyone’s faces, they didn’t hear.

 

Peter spun around and smacked his pointer hard on the desk making Derek and Stiles both flinch. “Can’t you two shut up for two seconds? Seriously…” He turned back to the board. “Now, by my calculations…”

 

Stiles raised his eyebrows and slumped back into the chair. 

 

_This is going to be a long, long day._


End file.
